An Embrace
by myBlueprints
Summary: After nearly drowning, Abbie just needs a hug. And after Frank dies, she needs another.
1. Chapter 1

Too late, he realises that he's made a mistake. He shouldn't have left her to go back home alone. He rectifies it immediately. In thirty minutes, despite the lateness of the hour, he's knocking on the door of her home, waiting for her to come out and open her home to him. Miss Jenny is the one who comes out to meet him.

'Pardon my late-' he begins, but she stops him, 'Come in.'

'What happened out there?' the younger Miss Mills wants to know.

From the look on Miss Jenny's face, he could tell that Abbie had not disclosed any information to her, but unfortunately didn't manage to keep her trauma hidden.

'Something I need to apologise for.' The apologising is what he tells Jenny, it's not the actual reason he's come.

'What did you do to my sister?'

He dropped his head in shame, recalling how he'd returned to a drowning Abbie, 'I left her alone.'

'She's in her room, she might be asleep.'

He clings to the hope that he's not too late, she can't be asleep already. The light is still on when he pushes the door open. He can't see her, because she's hidden under the sheets.

'Abbie?' Under the circumstances, he can use her first name, he almost lost her.

'I came to be with you,' he starts immediately, 'It came to me that perhaps you would be suffering the after-effects of what happened earlier. I do not want you to go through it by yourself, I am here for you.' He's been through it himself, one doesn't simply forget that something traumatic happened. She's brave, but even the bravest have fears.

Muffled by the sheets, her voice reaches him, 'I appreciate it.' That's his cue to sigh in relief, nothing soothes his worried mind than the sound of her small voice.

'Do you wish to talk about it?' without command, his legs walk further into the room, away from the door (forgetting to close it), to her bed. He stands there awkwardly, unsure of whether to sit on the bed or on the floor.

'The part where I was drowning or where I thought of you?' Now that she's said more than three words, he can hear from the little break in her voice that she's fresh from crying. He swallows painfully. All of it is his fault, it's always his fault, one day he could really get her killed. And all for what, a woman who has done nothing but keep things from him.

'Everything.'

She sniffs quietly, 'I've never felt so hopeless in my life Crane...it's the worst thing to live in hope, but have that taken away from you...I just didn't think I'd make it.'

Ichabod decides to sit on her bed, if he's going to be here for her, he's going to do it right, 'Abbie, can you uncover yourself and look at me please?' It's surprising that she does as he asks. As she sits up, setting her pillows around her, large eyes turned red and a pallid face meet his stare. From the usually bright face and warm eyes, this is a difference he couldn't ignore if he tried.

'You are distraught,' he observes, his soul feeling pressed against the walls of his inner body. She shouldn't have to go through things like that in her life.

'I'm traumatized,' is her answer, and he marvels at how she can just come right out and say how she's feeling without any urging, 'I think half of why I am, is that she thought I stole you from her, and I was going to die for it.'

He wants to say, it's over now, that Mary is finally free, but his mouth doesn't open. Words can't describe how he felt when he found her. Maybe one day he would finally be able to tell her how he felt, just not now.

'I didn't ask for this, and it just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I'm actually afraid for the first time.' Her large red eyes bore into his, and suddenly he can admit to himself without shame that he is afraid still. He didn't recover from the earlier events yet. His eyes start tearing.

'I thought, I would die, and when you came back, you'd come back to a dead body.'

'It's my fault,' he manages to get out through a dry throat, 'I shouldn't have left you. Mary was my problem, and she took out her frustrations on you.'

'It's not her Crane,' her head shakes sadly, saying that he doesn't understand, 'It's not that I would've died either...I saw how Caroline's death affected you, I just didn't want you to go through that again.' She smiles a most precious smile, sad and small, yet precious to the aching that is his soul, 'You mostly get on my nerves, it's like you enjoy crawling under my skin, but the truth is, you are the only person I can be myself with...You mean a lot to me Crane, I would never want you to go through any of that stuff that Katrina makes you go through, I never want to be the person who hurts you. Or have you in pain because of me.'

'Abbie...' he whispers, because he's shedding tears now and can't speak much louder than a whisper. How does he begin to tell her that he nearly died thinking she would die, where does he start to narrate the panic and dread that attacked him as he pulled her out of that pool? He's had frightening moments in his life before, but none of them as bad as the idea of losing her.

'I'm glad you came Crane,' she tells him, both her hands reaching out to clasp his hands into hers. He doesn't need to say anything, neither does she, because she understands what he's not saying, she understands his silence. He never wants to let go of her small hands, they are cold and dry, but he never wants to let them go.

'I am terribly afraid for your life still,' he confesses in tears, 'I thought I was over the incident, but coming here made me aware that I'm afraid for your life. If I could keep you inside my coat out of harms way, I wouldn't hesitate, because the idea of losing you forever eats away at me.'

'It's over,' she assures him gently , tears falling from her own eyes, 'it's over now.'

'I used to think Katrina is my weakness-'

'Crane,' she cuts through his words, 'could you...could you just...' she pauses, looking down in shyness, 'I really just need to feel that I'm safe...I don't know if that makes sense...but could you just hold me?' She tries to free her hands from his, but he keeps firm hold, which gets her to look at him; just as he wanted; sometimes, he has to make her look at him without asking her to with words.

'It's you,' he says without shame. Not his faith in her, not his dependence on her, not her role as his partner as a Witness. It's her. She's his weakness. He would turn the world inside out for her. Her response is mesmerising. She's shocked and touched at the same time. Her face is a mesmerising mess.

'Crane.' There is too much emotion in her eyes, he can't bear looking into them anymore. Slowly, he lets go of her hands, drawing his long arms around her to pull her to him. She falls limply into him, burying her head under his shoulder with a relieved sigh. Her arms stay at her side, not going around him. The way he didn't before, he understands now that she just needs to be held, she needs to feel safe in his embrace. She's not looking to hold him back, she only wants him to care of her for once when she's vulnerable and afraid. He tightens his hold.


	2. Chapter 2

'There's no worse feeling than telling someone that their loved one is gone, especially when it's under your watch.'

He'd once said those very words to the captain, he remembers them now because there's only a front porch separating him and Abbie from the inside of the house that the former Mrs. Irving shares with her daughter. The little confidence he has to be here, isn't even within him to begin with. It's stored within the little person beside him, who has it harder than he has, because that's just who she is.

She hasn't said a word since they climbed into the car to drive over to Mrs. Irving's, in fact, her last words to him were when they were leaving the morgue, and she told him with no option of debate that Mrs. Irving and little Macey had to hear the news from them, not on the news like common people who had nothing to do with the late captain.

'Would now be a fitting time to approach the door and knock?' he asks gently, turning on the spot to look at her. They've been standing at the same place for the last ten minutes. He can't move without her moving first, she leads him, without her lead, he can do nothing. At first, all he gets is silence. A silence he more than understands. Abbie isn't the sort of person who keeps her emotions on display, she knows how to hide her feelings, and when she is presented with a situation that demands her to show emotion, she chooses silence and perseverance of the task at hand. He knows that the tiny moment at the church, when he prevented her from going outside to see the captain with her own eyes, is the only display of pain he will witness from her. She might very well mention that the captain's death has done something to her, but she will never again show him emotion on the matter.

'Crane,' she says after some time, her eyes straight ahead, 'this isn't easy.' It's the tone of her voice that stabs him inside, instead of sounding defeated and weak, it sounds void, completely empty of anything at all. He too cared for the captain, he never imagined that they would lose him so soon, but the effect his death has on Abbie is breaking him apart. There's something inside him that cannot stand knowing Abbie is broken. He can take anyone else falling apart, he can handle the misery of other people, but never Abbie, never her. Her stubborn silence, her stoic face, even her refusal to acknowledge the pain coursing through her from the gunshot wound in her arm as she drove, are all evidence that inside she's breaking, fighting an emotional war that she's not sure she will win.

Because he cannot handle not seeing what she holds in her eyes, he moves to stand directly in front of her, 'I understand,' he tells her, silently willing her to look at him. It's at least the one thing he needs from her. She doesn't look at him immediately, but she doesn't avoid his eye either, it just takes time for her to raise her head up to him. What he sees in her eyes, even though it's not nearly as bright with only the porch light and the starry sky for light, is enough to make him reach out a hand onto her shoulder. If he could take her pain away, he would, if he could rewind the clock he would, he would do anything to keep from seeing the look in her eyes. In her eyes, he sees what the rest of her isn't allowing to show.

'He trusted me Crane,' she says to him, her eyes directly linked with his. He's the one who wants to look away from her, he cannot bear seeing her like this.

'You didn't let him down.' It's the only comfort he can provide her with, but he knows she'll never believe that. He doesn't believe he did his best to protect the captain either, why would he expect that she would feel differently?

'I let him die,' Abbie responds to his words, 'and that's much worse.' She's slipping away from him, he can sense that she is. Abbie is still there with him, but she's slipping away, going to a place that he won't be able to rescue her from if he doesn't stop her from going. She turns her face away from him, shrugging his hand off her shoulder. It's the most painful thing he's felt all night. The near betrayal of his son, his son nearly killing his wife, the captain losing his life, have nothing on the scarring pain he feels when Abbie removes herself from his touch.

'Abbie please,' he breathes, not bothering to swallow away the lump in his throat. Why won't she let him comfort her, even just a little, why is it that she won't let him in?

The clear-cut anguish in his voice gets her to turn back to him, 'When you touch me Crane,' she steps right into him, 'I remember that I'm alive.' He expects her to continue, but she doesn't, instead, she takes a step back from him.

'You shouldn't be sorry that you are,' he tries again. He cannot allow her to sink, he needs her to remain firmly on the ground, by his side, guiding him. A smile that bears no sign of happiness crosses on Abbie's face, 'I'm not,' she shakes her head, 'I'm not sorry I'm alive. I want to live. What I don't want is to live without people I care about, I don't want to lose people I need...I don't.' For a moment, all he can do is stare at her; they came to deliver news of the captain's death to his former wife and his child, to provide support in any way they can, but staring at Abbie, seeing the way she's stubbornly keeping her emotions out of the way when she feels them, he doesn't want to go through with it anymore.

'We don't have to do this tonight.' Of course they have to, by tomorrow morning, the captain's death will be all over the news. There is no way around giving the news tonight, he's only giving her the option of choosing otherwise, even though that option isn't available at all.

Abbie exhales heavily, 'When you held me back, I was frustrated because I knew that if I wasn't hurt, I could easily free myself. I didn't have much fight in me...I wanted right then to surrender, to give up everything, but you surrounded me and I felt comfort.' She exhales again, and again, something he knows she's doing to prepare herself for whatever she's going to say next.

'I can deliver the news by myself,' he suggests. It's not how it is, but later on, when Abbie has recovered (her version of recover that is), she will call him out for offering her the coward's way out. Right now, it doesn't matter, he'll do anything to keep her from more pain. No doubt, looking at Mrs. Irving in the face, and telling her that the man she loved is dead, will cause Abbie pain. She disagrees by shaking her head slightly, 'I just need a minute.'

Choosing to forget her earlier words, he places his hands on either of her forearms, 'I will be with you.' She must already know it, but he feels that she needs to hear the words from his mouth. Her face changes a tiny bit, showing off a small glimpse of hope, or perhaps eased pain.

'You know how I felt a little comfort at the church?' she asks him, not giving him time to answer, 'I need a little of that right now. I need courage to step into that house.' Her large eyes bore into his expectantly. It's her way of asking him to embrace her, he understands instantly. Without saying a single word, or wasting any more time, he moves his arms around her, catching her in an embrace that's both comfort and courage. She needs him, just for this, this embrace, for courage or comfort, whichever it is she needs most. Her hands settle on his upper arms, to keep her safe in his embrace for as long she needs. There are so many things he can be useful for, that he can help her with, it's just for now, holding her deeply into him like this, is what she needs from him. He doesn't care if that's all she'll ever need him for.


End file.
